The Brass Tack
Author's note: My heartfelt apologies for those who felt I gave up on the Working Girl series. I was striving for a "King Kong" ending, where the beast's heart is softened by a special woman. I obviously failed in my attempt. Thanks for letting me know I failed! I'll keep writing, and now realize the ending is as, or more, important than the story itself. I continue to grow.
Small groups of students clustered in the first floor hallway of the Donovan building. Talking and laughter reverberated off the white plaster walls. Antique brass chandeliers hung from the ceiling and cast an even light throughout.
When the entry door opened and the tell-tale swishing of Professor Dawkins' long robe was heard, the hallway fell silent. A satisfied smile formed on his thin lips as he personally acknowledged his students with a nod of his head and the wink of an eye. He always made direct eye contact with his flock with a look of approval on his hawkish face.
He victoriously glanced up at the chandeliers. It had been a bitter struggle but he won out. Modernizing Donovan would have been a huge mistake and a waste of precious funds. He rolled his eyes in disbelief at the administrative thought process. The flock needed shepherds, not prettier fences to pen them in.
He had a tall, slender frame, and always carried himself well. He walked with precise, measured steps, as if conserving his allotted number. His most noticeable physical features were his short, disheveled dark hair and a long hooked nose. He always wore a suit, and over that a knee-length black robe. He held tradition in such high regard that he had alienated himself from colleagues with his tenacious refusal to adopt modern teaching techniques.
"Abandoning proven methods for the sake of change is sheer folly!" This was his motto.
To be quite frank, Professor Rodney Dawkins was the best professor at the private women's college. Or so we were all thoroughly convinced. He never lightened his own work load through the use of student teachers, and only he evaluated our work. Therefore, our grades were consistent and fair. We always knew what was expected of us.
That is why we continued to apply for his classes. And there never was any need to worry, none at all, as long as we fully applied ourselves and did what was required. Yet all of us glanced at the large brass tack on the cork bulletin board in fearful respect, knowing that at mid-semester one of us could be selected by the sharp tip of the brass pin. That knowledge encouraged us to excel in our studies, ask questions, and submit our papers on time or early.
Inappropriate behavior was non-existent once the threshold of his classroom was penetrated. There were no sidebar discussions or spontaneous comments of any sort. Fear-based respect was always afforded Professor Dawkins. Even outside the classroom rarely was his name mentioned, and absolutely never in a negative light.
Crystal must not have been aware of his strict authoritarian style. We tried to warn her about the cavalier attitude and dismissive gestures that garnered the professor's stern looks and frowns. But Crystal was a free spirit and would not be bridled, even for the brief duration of his two weekly lectures. The lithe, vibrant brunette dismissed their concern with the wave of a hand.
* * * * *
At mid-semester the professor reviewed student progress and determined if any of his flock was in danger of failing. He took his profession seriously and felt that a student only failed if the professor failed his student. It was incumbent upon him to ensure all avenues were taken to teach and guide his flock through his field and to the next gate in their intellectual career. Any errant sheep had to be encouraged to rejoin their peers.
Although the modern era had dismantled the practice of corporal punishment, Professor Dawkins retained its use for extreme cases. And Crystal was such a case. She was not the first to invite his fury, nor would she be the last. How he managed to implement the outdated form of encouragement and avoid scandal escaped him. Perhaps other classmates intimidated the weak into silence. Or maybe so grateful were the misguided ones that despite the pain and humiliation they endured, they realized he did it out of his love of teaching and genuine concern for their welfare.
A slight smile appeared on his otherwise stern face as he determined Crystal would need to be corrected. He suspected from the very start that she would be a problem. The young lady was strikingly beautiful and boastful of her appearance. She made every effort to reveal as much of her body as possible.
Her short dark hair, which framed an attractive face, was teased into spikes and supported by the hair gel which women now used. Crystal liked to employ the use of pull-over half-tops or thin blouses that focused attention on her naturally firm bosom and bare, flat belly. Short skirts showed off her smooth golden legs, and the manner in which she sat intermittently afforded views of her multi-colored selection of panties. He found it as distracting as it was sensual.
He recalled the soft inner thighs as her legs willingly parted, revealing her panty-covered crotch and the outline of her fragile folds. Thinking about her slender, shapely body stirred his dormant penis. He silently scolded himself for his excitement, although not too harshly. After all, he was but a man.
* * * * *
When the class assembled there was a hushed silence. They all knew that this was the day. The brass tack would be removed from the left side of the cork board and either placed beside the name of a student or to the right of the list. They nervously glanced at one another as the professor intentionally delayed, creating dramatic tension.
The professor was an imposing figure, and appeared even more intimidating on this particular occasion. He walked to the board, ceremoniously removing the tack. His eyes slowly scanned the list of names typed on a single sheet of crisp white paper. He knew his flock was watching with all the nervous fear of a condemned criminal viewing the gallows.
He placed his right index finger beneath the top name and slowly moved it down, line by line. His animated lips silently read each name as he subconsciously rolled the tack between the fingers of his left hand. When he advanced to the next name he overheard an audible gasp of relief as another of his sheep escaped the executioner's wrath.
Tension filled the air as his finger lowered. When his left hand moved up and it appeared inevitable that a name was about to be selected, those still at risk stifled cries of despair. Several shed tears which were quickly dabbed away to hide their unstable emotional state. The others flashed Crystal hateful glares behind her back, as if her cavalier attitude toward higher education was the catalyst for their nervous apprehension.
The professor pierced the paper and supporting cork. He pushed and buried the shaft firmly into position before turning to face his class.
For some it was a cause for relief, but for others whose names were located within the bottom cluster of print it caused considerable trepidation. The list of names was too small to view from a distance, and only the brass tack's approximate position could be observed.
An energy surged through him as his flock emanated the nervous fear he so loved. Fear was respect, respect was power, and power was domination. And this domination enabled him to teach so many and guide them to success. It gave him an incredible sense of fulfillment and purpose.
He noticed with considerable dismay that Crystal Singleton appeared oblivious to the enormity of her peril, for the brass tack had indeed selected her. Others whose names were in close proximity squirmed uncomfortably in their straight-backed wooden chairs like worms on a fishing hook. Sally Quick and Beverly Shaw, whose names bracketed Crystal's, were nearly in tears and repeatedly wrung their hands. Although his face remained stoic, he was smiling inside. He had all of his pupils, save one, exactly where he wanted.
"Those of you that have complete confidence in your non-selection may enjoy an early release," he announced.
After a brief hesitation, the sound of wooden chair legs sliding against the linoleum tile filled the chamber with noise. Most of the girls vacated the room as they whispered amongst themselves. When the last had filed out, Professor Dawkins noticed that five remained.
Oddly enough it was the four most frightened that had no reason to express that emotion. Crystal, in contrast, seemed completely at ease.
"Gloria Turner, please advance to the board and read the name selected. Take the others out with you," he directed. "Be sure to close the door in your wake."
She complied with his request. Anxious sighs of relief were heard as the others learned they had escaped a dreadful fate and gladly retreated from the room. Only Crystal remained. When the door closed with a loud metallic click he noticed that she flinched. He suspected there was a great deal of turmoil beneath the unbroken surface. His punishment would send far-reaching ripples across her emotional pond.
"Advance to the demonstration bench." It was not a request, but a stern demand that offered no alternative.
The demonstration bench was a beautiful long, heavy cherry table with ornately carved legs. The rich, polished wood surface shimmered in the light of day. It had a dual purpose; to teach, and to motivate. Today the latter would be its primary function.
Crystal shuddered as a cold chill rippled through her body. The table looked strangely ominous as it seemingly beckoned for her. She glanced back toward the closed door. It was a tempting thought, but she needed the money.
"Yes, think hard about your future," he advised his misguided pupil. "Choose the door and leave behind all that can be achieved. Or accept your punishment, learn by it, and stay the course."
Crystal nervously arose and repeatedly glanced from the table to the door. She took one tentative step toward the exit, hesitated, and withdrew. Crystal really needed the money. A thousand dollars was a lot to her. But would it be worth it?
She swallowed hard and boldly advanced. He seemed pleased by Crystal's final decision despite its lack of conviction. As she stood beside the table he retrieved an old wooden box from its resting place beneath the bench. The professor placed it on the table top, opened two metal latches, and raised the lid. It was opened carefully as it contained rare teaching artifacts of extreme value. Education was a family tradition that had deep roots.
Crystal watched with increasing trepidation as he removed four leather cuffs. A thick, round metal ring dangled from each. To her untrained eyes they appeared to be old, for each had a weathered appearance.
"You can busy yourself by removing all of your clothing," he mentioned without looking away from his preparations. "It shouldn't take long for as little as you choose to wear."
"Are you serious?" she questioned in surprise. Even though Nancy had warned her of this she couldn't quell her initial reaction of disbelief.
He didn't answer. Instead he gently removed four coiled metal chains. The links were small and their purpose seemed obvious. Two items remained. Crystal stood fully clothed, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She watched in a trance-like stare as his hands removed another, larger leather strap. It was adorned with a highly polished round piece of wood. At first Crystal was puzzled as to its purpose, but when she noticed the many dents in its otherwise smooth surface she realized the function it served.
The paddle was last, and its appearance filled her with such dread that her eyes again returned to the closed door. It had a thick wood handle. Above the handle it blossomed out into a large, flat surface. One side of the paddle was smooth and covered in leather. The other side bristled with tiny abrasions and looked much more ominous. He placed the paddle with the leather side up, as if to assure her that he intended to wield the instrument compassionately.
"Your clothes," he again prompted. "Unless you prefer I use the other side." She watched fearfully as he turned the paddle over. When she began to loosen her clothing, Professor Dawkins flipped it over to the leather-cloaked side.
He watched with considerable interest as Crystal peeled the tight top from her body and revealed her breasts. Under normal circumstances it wasn't any big deal. She was accustomed to being seen nude since she worked the stages of a local strip club as a primary source of income. But under these trying conditions and his glaring stare, Crystal experienced shame and humiliation.
After carefully folding her shirt over the back of a nearby chair, Crystal pushed the elastic waistband of her short skirt down over her curved hips. She held it up to keep from collecting any dirt from the cold linoleum floor as she stepped out of it, and folded it over with the top. Only her red panties remained.
Crystal couldn't comprehend why she felt so intimidated by him, but she was. And finally she put her finger on what had been eluding her. This wonderful, dedicated teacher had earned her full respect. He wasn't anything like she'd expected. Despite the hard exterior, inside she discovered warmth and compassion. Maybe that was why she walked to the table instead of the door. Initially it was money that provided the motivation for her return to the classroom, but everything after that she owed to him.
Her trembling fingers grasped the waistband of the panties and pushed them to her knees. Gravity pulled them around her ankles. Instead of bending down, she removed one foot and lifted the other, pulling from it the final garment of clothing.
The professor gestured for her to approach. A large lump formed in the back of her throat as her stomach knotted. Her entire being began trembling as a cold chill shot down her spine. Goose bumps formed on her skin. He smiled inside as he observed the delayed reaction he had anticipated seeing much earlier. He had finally broken through. Professor Dawkins felt a deep sense of accomplishment as hope for her future remained alive.
After considerable hesitation Crystal obediently complied. When he held a leather strap up she extended her left arm. He wrapped it around the wrist and cinched it down. He held out the second one and secured it around her right wrist. The professor lowered to his knees with the remaining two small straps in hand. Crystal flushed red in embarrassment and closed her eyes in shame as she felt his hot breath on her lower belly. Surely he enjoyed the close-up view of her shaved pussy and delighted in seeing the moist pink folds.
In reality he was professional to the end. He took no advantage of her precarious position and concentrated on the task at hand. After the straps were secured to her ankles, he picked up the long strap with the piece of round, dimpled wood attached. The wood ball was moved to her lips. Crystal understood and her mouth opened. He tightened the straps of the ancient gag around her head.
Crystal had always exuded fearless confidence, but that was no longer the case. She visibly trembled before him as tears moistened her overanxious eyes. She felt trapped in his admonishing gaze like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. The knot in her stomach tightened. A single tear rolled down a cheek.
He picked up the coils of chain one at a time. Crystal became desperately frightened and closed her eyes, unable to watch more. She gasped as each chain was attached to the rings on the four small straps bound to her wrists and ankles. Although Crystal could not know, he employed them in hopes that the mere sight of them would instill fear and obedience. Their use was not actually required for a simple paddling.
When all was said and done, Crystal's naked form was spread-eagle with her lower belly pressed against the edge of the table. Two chains held her arms outstretched, with the other end of the chains passing through metal rings previously unobserved and looped back until the desired tension was applied. Her legs were affixed to the floor in a similar manner, spread to the point of discomfort.
"How have I failed you? I try and try with all my heart to reach all of my pupils, to inspire them with my teachings. So many have gone on to lead successful careers, create families, and repeat the process. Why am I unable to reach you? Why do you close your mind to knowledge? Are you aware of the power it possesses?"
He spoke the words with such a passion that it brought tears to her eyes. How desperately she wanted to reveal that it was all a plan, that she had been honestly inspired by him all along. She heard the guilt-laced frustration in his voice. If the wooden ball hadn't filled her mouth she would have told him that he hadn't failed her at all, but that she had intentionally fared poorly to meet the terms of a verbal contract that offered money at a time of dire need.
Hot tears of shame flowed down her cheeks. He hadn't failed her at all, instead she had betrayed the trust he placed in each of his students. Crystal understood now.
She was filled with a sharp stinging pain that ripped the breath from lungs. It momentarily overwhelmed her. It took several seconds to recover.
"That was the other side," he lied, for the smooth leather surface had been used. "The abrasive surface tears the skin and inflicts misery the likes of which you never want to experience. Open your mind and learn, and you will never again feel it upon your flesh. You have such potential. Your mind is far more beautiful than your exterior."
The pain had no part in the tears that flowed. If she could only speak, even for a moment, her heart would spill its true feelings. Did he really think her mind was beautiful?
For a second time the paddle struck, but it was much less severe. Professor Dawkins didn't use intense pain to inspire. Merely the threat of it was enough. Therefore he struck her flesh with a fraction of the force he could bring to bear. Her heart rejoiced, for she knew she could endure the paddle and excel. Her mind was less on the paddle and more on the lesson. The professor thought her smart and had more faith in her than she had in herself.
Eight more times the paddle struck with a loud clapping sound. Each was followed by a mild surge of stinging pain that, once endured, rapidly dissipated. At the end her round cheeks reddened in protest and ached in discomfort, but it wasn't nearly as bad as her mind had imagined it would be. He silently unhooked the ends of the chains and removed them from the leather straps, but left the straps and gag in place as a reminder of her transgressions.
"Return to your desk and write a three page essay on what you have learned from this. I have left the leather straps in place in the event you require additional motivation. Approach when you have finished," he carefully instructed.
Crystal returned to her desk, and he to his. The professor read and graded assignments as he waited for her essay to be completed. For Crystal, it was an emotional task. She felt mild discomfort as her sore bare bottom pressed upon the wooden seat. It was a distracting reminder of the lesson he had instilled. But once she pushed the discomfort from her mind the words flowed, and three pages were easily filled as she related all the changes that she felt within.
When she was finished, Crystal nervously approached the professor's desk. He looked up from his work and gestured her forward. Her entire body trembled as she obediently followed his unspoken directions and stood before his desk. He took the essay from her extended hand and carefully read it as she nervously waited for his approval.
"It is honest and surprisingly well crafted for a pupil whose own inaction led me to falsely doubt her communications skills," he commented after considerable thought. "You have learned well, and I have complete confidence that at the end of this semester your grades will challenge those of your peers. I will consider this an extra credit assignment. Do not make me regret this decision."
She looked him directly in the eyes and promised that she would not give him any cause for regret. He believed her, for he saw the sincerity in her soft, moist eyes. His hands reached around, loosened, and removed the leather head strap and round wooden gag. He placed it on his desk along with her essay.
"A lesson learned well must be rewarded," he announced with a sense of pride and happiness in his voice that lightened her heavy heart. "Misery is not all I can dispense."
He allowed himself to look at her as a man, not a teacher. Her beauty was undeniable. From the spiked dark hair and pretty face to the swells of flesh that dangled from her chest, and all the way down to the trimmed soft curls that flanked her center. He admired all of her, and in so doing stirred his member which eagerly throbbed with life.
For reasons which Rodney could not explain, these remedial lessons always garnered him much affection from his students. He learned long ago that they were made even more effective when pleasure followed pain, when love followed humiliation, and when success followed failure. It was his tradition, and he had to mentally separate the man from the teacher in order to maintain a professional distance when classroom instruction continued.
He leaned towards her, and she to he. Their eyes closed as their lips met for the first time. The kissing started out soft and tentative as his warm hands cupped her cool cheeks. His fingers felt wonderful on her face and she shuddered against him. Finally his tongue gently pressed to her lips and her mouth opened, eagerly accepting the wet muscle deeply inside. They kissed, and only kissed, for minutes.
They tasted one another as tongues entwined and parried, thrust and retreated, all in an incredibly erotic dance. For one brief moment in time his shield was lowered and Crystal caught a glimpse of the man behind the stern mask and found him to be an amazing individual. Kind, caring, compassionate, respectful; he was all of these things to her, and more.
She was more than ready when his hands left her face and cupped her soft, warm mounds. She arched her back and pressed herself harder against his strong fingers. Her nipples hardened as his thumbs gently rubbed on the hard tips. Tingling warmth filled her body. She groaned aloud in shameless delight. The outer folds of her pussy separated like the petals of a flower to the sun's warming rays. Wetness seeped from her pussy in desire, anxious to fill the aching cavity.
True to his character, Professor Dawkins was patient and gentle. Learning was a slow process, and so was his loving. Warm, soft kissing and the tender stroking of her breasts and nipples had worked Crystal into an excited frenzy.
While most guys she'd been with skipped foreplay and just wanted to please themselves, the professor took it to the opposite extreme. She was more than ready for him, yet still he only kissed and touched her quivering flesh. Crystal wanted, needed, more.
"You may seek what you crave," he finally whispered, allowing her the privilege of his intimacy.
Having received his approval, she anxiously tugged the zipper down its track and slipped her soft fingers inside the opening. Crystal gently grasped the swollen head and invited it out to play. Once freed, it stood upright in search of a new, temporary home. The tip seemingly sniffed at the air and leaned in the direction of her moist center.
He grasped her underarms and lifted Crystal into a sitting position on the side of his uncluttered desk. His hands moved down and grasped the elastic waistband of her panties. A small wet spot was already visible in the narrow crotch. He pulled them down her sleek thighs and over her shapely calves. Once removed, the legs parted in silent invitation. He glanced down at what was offered; the trimmed rectangular patch of curls and the glistening pink lips nestled within.
Her hips rotated back as she offered herself fully. He stepped between the limbs. His hands grasped her hips. As he advanced toward her, his erect cock pressed against the shimmering flesh. Crystal gasped as she pivoted her head back. The black spikes of hair vibrated as her form quivered with nervous passion.
She jumped when the bulbous head pushed between the outer folds and entered the slick, narrow canyon. She'd only had two lovers. When Crystal considered her relative lack of experience she was filled with anxiety. How could she think herself worthy of his loving attention? Her eyes moistened with tears in awe of the man and mentor who was about to take her. She desperately wanted to please him.
"I want to be good for you," she heard herself whispering in a breathless, broken voice.
"Desire lies in the heart, not the flesh," he responded. "If you sincerely want to please me, then you shall."
Crystal softly moaned as the tip of his sizeable mass shifted into position. The round head throbbed at the narrow opening as her leaking juice coated the smooth purplish-red member. His hands reached beneath her seated body and clutched her sore ass cheeks. As his fingers dug into the flesh he drew her forward, simultaneously pressing his cock at the entrance to her core.
She winced and softly cried out as the walls stretched wide. The penetration of his pulsating head was accompanied by her sharp groans and his soft, reassuring sighs. Always the caring mentor, he gently eased deeper inside. Her fingers tightened their hold on the edges of the desk as she shuddered in delight. His fingers rhythmically squeezed her ass as his hips pumped, spearing deeper into her wet canal.
"Oh!" she moaned aloud as his throbbing prick filled her aching void. Tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her rosy cheeks. "Oh professor, I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you."
"Shush," he whispered, compelling her silence. "Each of the flock deserves the shepherd's staff, especially those who have strayed. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you, and there will be no limit to your success."
Her pitiful, grounded heart soared. Tingling warmth erupted in her loins as his penis filled her core with throbbing affection. Liquid love seeped from the tip and mixed with her flowing essence. His staff nudged her back in line with the others, guiding her to the gate that led to the next field. As it did her body gripped the shaft, bathing it in hot wetness. He glided in and out of her juicy center, displaying the loving affection he felt for all his pupils.
Crystal's form writhed in pleasure. Her bare breasts jiggled with each thrust. His long prick reached inside her belly, stimulating not only her enlarged clitoris but also Crystal's perception of herself. Juice soaked her sex and dripped from the swollen pink folds as he repeatedly pierced her center, driving deeper with each stroke.
"Ah!" her voice softly exclaimed each time his cock pierced into her core. Her heart raced as she twitched on the edge of the desk, oozing essence onto the highly polished wood surface.
Professor Dawkins loved his female students, especially the weak ones. Crystal was no different. His steel-hard prick extended into her succulent chamber, savoring the pleasure of her juicy center. The walls fluttered around his shaft, coaxing droplets of thick cum from the tip. He slid back and forth along the length of the slick canal, breathing heavily from his physical efforts.
"Oh, professor..." Crystal's groaning voice trailed off in amazed wonder.
Her mind drifted to thoughts of her work, where an assortment of men slipped bills down the front of her panties and illegally touched her pussy lips. If she was in the mood and the tip was good, she let them sneak a few fingers under the crotch of her G-string and push them into her moist slit. A finger would inevitably push inside her canal and briefly finger-fuck her lithe, shimmering form. That always made her nipples hard.
The incredible heat in her loins mounted and moved upward. Her face flushed red with excitement. Droplets of perspiration formed on her luminescent skin. The professor grunted with each driving thrust, pummeling her center with his erect cock. Her groans intensified as ripples of pleasure grew stronger, pushing her closer to sexual release.
The mental vision of sexual improprieties and the arousing sensations that accompanied the professor's penetrating cock quickly had Crystal on the verge of climax. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he slammed into her supple body, vibrating her entire being with ripples of delight. She momentarily tensed, feeling as if every muscle was flexing. A second later she moaned aloud in breathless declarations of joy and shuddered in spasms of ecstasy. Her flesh powerfully quaked as flowing juice bathed his moving stem and dripped from the quivering pink folds of her pussy.
The orgasm quickly peaked and faded, but the professor was still far from done. He sat down in his chair and pulled her onto his lap, where his stiff penis re-entered her steamy core. Their mouths hungrily met in passionate tongue kissing. The wet muscles anxiously entwined, shamelessly rubbing against one another in an erotic dance of desire. His hands reached up and grasped her bouncing breasts. He squeezed on the firm swells and throbbing nipples, feeling as she shuddered atop him in delight.
He pumped upward as Crystal rocked up and down, pivoting at the knees. Her head titled back and she softly moaned up at the ceiling. His strong fingers gently kneaded the mounds and prodded the hard nipples, adding to the pleasurable sensations that filled her loins. Sweat ran down her body as essence seeped from her belly.
In her mind they were at the club, mating in a chair along pervert row as another dancer moved her half-naked body in rhythm with the music just a few feet away. The dancer leaned over and now it was her that Crystal was kissing. Inspired by the fantasy, Crystal kissed her professor faster and harder, pushing her tongue deeper into his mouth. He responded in kind, caressing her creamy globes and tweaking the swollen nipples with renewed excitement. The pink tips ached with excitement, pulsating with every beat of her rapidly pounding heart.
The stripper she was kissing stood upright, and in Crystal's mind the girl was pulling the crotch of her G-string to one side and displaying her shaved pussy. Crystal had never been with a another girl, but that didn't keep her from thinking about it. She imagined the stripper pulling Crystal's face up to her crotch and rubbing herself on her mouth. Crystal fantasized she was eating the offered twat, eagerly licking and sucking on the juicy flesh. She imagined working her tongue into the hot slit and devouring the flesh as pussy juice coated her face.
She interrupted the kiss and leaned back, groaning sharply as a second climax approached. Her body moved faster, desperately fucking his driving cock. Her mouth moved in sensual motions as her mind played out the fantasy. Her curled tongue flicked up and down as she fantasized tongue-fucking the stripper. She could almost taste the hot juice that would be smearing over her lips and chin and warming her belly
"Oh!" Crystal excitedly gasped. She was so close.
Her body suddenly froze before erupting in wild spasms of delight. The tingling warmth centered in her loins radiated outward, throughout her writhing form. The breath was ripped from her searing lungs as sweat rolled down her skin. Her frantic cries of pleasure filled the quiet hall with noise.
Her body relaxed after the brief eruption of intense pleasure. The professor lifted her off his lap and guided her into a kneeling position before him. Crystal stared at his swollen member. It glistened with a mixture of juice and seed. A fat drop of cum had collected at the tip and stubbornly clung to the rounded head. She looked at his magnificent staff in awe, noting the ridges along the straight shaft. Her hands reached forward and supported the base of his towering stem. Her mouth moved in and commenced sucking on the penis.
His hands tenderly cradled the back and top of her head. He guided her movements for his maximum pleasure. The leaking drop of semen finally rolled onto her tongue. Crystal's hot mouth was filled with his musk flavor as she eagerly swallowed it down.
He pulled her head down and pushed the tip of his penis to the back of her throat. When she started gagging he calmed her with his controlled, soothing voice. Fingers gently stroked the front of her neck in a relaxing motion.
"Relax and let it pass down your throat. Don't fight it," he instructed.
Crystal imagined his cock moving down her throat. She relaxed, and the next time he pushed inside, the slippery head bumped at her throat and moved bent around the curve. She concentrated on the feel of his driving penis and was overwhelmed by a sense of pride as she successfully devoured his prick. The accomplishment renewed her self-confidence and bolstered her desire for his affection.
Professor Dawkins groaned in delight as the sensitized tip rubbed along the length of her amazing tongue and slid down her velvet-smooth throat. Tingling pressure gripped his balls and lower belly. He was so proud of his pupil as the building pressure of his moving seed stimulated his loins. She gagged a few times, but overcame the discomfort as he expected she would.
As his fingers sifted through the spikes of dark hair he pumped into her wondrous mouth. Crystal engulfed him in hot wetness. She moved him to the brink of orgasm. His soft grunts grew louder as the seed advanced from his laden balls. Tingling pressure filled his loins and pulsating penis.
"Uh!" he exclaimed as he ejaculated thick, hot cum into her mouth. The sudden flood of semen overwhelmed her mouth. She quickly swallowed what she could as the rest oozed from the corners of her mouth. Crystal kept sucking for the duration of his climax. More was injected into her luscious mouth, which she readily ingested.
When he was done she looked up into his eyes. He smiled down at his willing pupil.
"There are no obstacles to learning that, with my guidance, cannot be overcome," he assured her in a soft, confident voice. "Use your beautiful mind. That's where true beauty lies."
* * * * *
The lunch crowd was smaller than usual so Crystal focused her attention on a lonely, overweight, middle-aged balding man that was seated at pervert row. Pervert row referred to the chairs that lined the stage, allowing the most desperate men to be as close to the action as possible. Despite her attention he seemed inattentive, as if lost in thought. Crystal began to realize the valuable time she was wasting. Her thoughts returned to Professor Dawkins and his assurances that she had a beautiful and insightful mind.
Her gaze shifted to the door as it briefly opened. A figure, silhouetted by bright sunlight, entered. Once darkness returned Crystal recognized Nancy. She sat at a table furthest away from the stage, as if embarrassed by Crystal's half-naked form. After the song ended, Crystal approached the new patron and sat beside her.
Nancy slid a sealed envelope across the table. "I heard that you did very well. Thanks. I included a bonus."
Crystal opened the envelope suspiciously. As she counted fifteen $100 dollar bills a smile formed on her lips.
"What's this all about, anyway?" Crystal questioned. "You told me I'd understand afterwards, but I'm still confused."
Nancy gratefully smiled as her eyes stared off into the distance. Several moments of silence elapsed as her mind thought of another time.
"Well?" Crystal impatiently asked.
Nancy harshly glared at the stripper. "You don't deserve him; you never did. Professor Dawkins is the kind and gentle man that changed my life. I just wanted to thank him the only way I could."
Crystal's brow wrinkled in a gesture of uncertainty. "I went through all that so he could fuck me?"
The woman became livid. "Please tell me you're not this dense! The professor's very existence is centered on helping people. The best way I could think of to thank him for all he's done for me is by giving him you. He derives such joy from showing a misguided pupil the way to the next gate that I knew it was the ideal way to show my admiration and appreciation."
Crystal's eyes misted. "You just think I'm just some stupid stripper! Well, I'm not! I can be smart, you know! Professor Dawkins told me that!"
An indignant look appeared on Nancy's face. "You're just a pretty piece of meat, and that's all you'll ever be!"
Crystal burst out into tears and cried out at Nancy's retreating figure "I'm better than that! I'm going to college, and I'm going to be somebody important!"
The entry door thumped closed as brightness immersed Nancy's body. She hesitated and wiped away several tears. She hated doing that to Crystal.
"Tough love," she whispered to herself in consolation.
A dark sedan pulled up. She opened the door and settled into the plush passenger seat.
"Well?" Timothy Singleton asked.
Nancy still felt bad. She nodded her head up and down as the hot tears continued to flow.
"Thanks," he responded as he caressed her upper left thigh. "I knew you'd find a way to get my daughter back into college. Shall we celebrate in private?"
Nancy scoffed. "Not as long as there's still a Mrs. Singleton."